


Make Our Love Great Again

by isadub



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Action, Angst, Case File, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Post-Episode: s11e02 This, Pre-episode: s11e03 Plus One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:22:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27632005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isadub/pseuds/isadub
Summary: Shortly after the events of This, an unexpected adventurous Sunday in the life of Mulder and Scully and an emotional journey for them and their couple, as they investigate a spooky case involving past acquaintances and evil macho men.
Relationships: msr - Relationship
Comments: 35
Kudos: 21
Collections: X-Files Case File Fanfic Exchange (2020)





	1. TEASER

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AweburnPhoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AweburnPhoenix/gifts).



> Written for the Case File X-Files FanFic Exchange 2020.
> 
> Some remarks (further notes in the end of the work, don't want to spoil anything here):
> 
> 1) I was completely thrilled and anxious to write for my fellow European Laia. I really hope that this story would please you, Laia, and surprise you (in a good way). 
> 
> 2) I want to warmly thank FragileVixen, who had helped me when I began writing this fic. I had difficulties to really start for good, and then, thanks to her, the flow of words just came.
> 
> 3) The story hadn't been betaed (except for the very beginning and early on, but it's a part that had been rewritten afterwards). So, I apologize for all the errors that could appear in the text, hoping there are just a very few of them.

(Photo taken by my daughter - August 2020 - Contis Plage - France)

_Sunday, March 4, 2018 - Early Morning - Different homes_

The movements by his side quietly awakened him from what he thought had been a dreamless sleep --certainly, for his own sake, his brain was just preventing him from recalling his internal conflicts that had taken spooky shapes during the night.

“Hon, already getting up?” he asked.  
“I have to,” she answered, getting out of the bed.  
“I’m really worried about you. About your safety.”  
“Don’t. I’ll be fine.”

Then, leaving the bedroom, she yelled:  
“Take good care of the kids!”

* * *

His tools. The screwdriver. The pliers. The hammer. The drill. The chainsaw. He had to do something with them. But what? If only he knew.

The struggles in his inner head made him open his eyes, sweating and confused.

Had he really spent the night here, lying on the leather couch?

And where was she? How was she? Had she come back home? No, surely. If so, she would have awakened him, told him she was safe and sound.

The noise of a key in a lock. The opening of the front door.

“Cathy, is that you?” he called.

* * *

Darkness. Cold. Silence. Then, brightness. Sharpness. Stabbing.

Mulder jolted awake.

He turned on his side and stretched out his arm under the sheets of the bed.

Nobody here but the most unwanted absence. Nothing but her ghostly presence on the mattress.

A vivid want of her body and her words to soothe him after his terrible nightmare. Still, hope and trust in the future. In their future.

Low shining rays of sun were already hitting him through the window. Maybe it would be a bright happy Sunday, after all.

For himself and for Scully.

For both of them.


	2. ACT ONE - PART ONE

_Scene 1 - Sunday, March 4, 2018_ _\- Morning - Surroundings of the Unremarkable house_

Moans and groans. Inhaling, exhaling. Wince and frown.

Mulder was jogging in the woods, pushing hard his physical limits and forcing his legs into long and powerful strides. Since he and Scully had fought against the bad Russian guys of Purlieu Services he had reinforced his training. He wanted to be in the best shape for her; he wanted her to admire his healthy body and to think he was completely healed --both physically and mentally. 

'Mens Sana in Corpore Sano' had become his motto, more than ever since he had seen and noticed how she had looked at him, how she had touched his chest and admired his sore body in the Long Lines Buildings.

He was and would be the new Fox Mulder reconquering his other half by a discreet but constant strategy. He knew --or, rather, he believed-- that it was just a question of time, maybe of days; a matter of her adjusting to the new him and foreseeing an endless future together.

Now smiling despite the physical pain, soundtracked by 'Ho Hey' from The Lumineers in his ears, he was hopeful and happy. He listened to the song a few times in a row, remembering the bright redhead apparition on the lyrics 'so show me family, all the blood that I will bleed', when sitting on his porch some weeks ago. That had been a good omen he wanted to believe in.

'I belong with you, you belong with me' was the truth they both knew for so long. They just had to make it work in daily life, once again and this time for good. He was ready for the challenge and, as much as he could guess, she was too. 

Almost.

Smile and sigh. Inhaling, exhaling. Moans and groans.

A beep signaling a text on his phone interrupted his train of thoughts. He checked the message while running at a slower pace --"Someone wants to see us ASAP. Heading to our home. Will explain there."

Scully.

Our home?

'Love we need it now, Let's hope for some, Cause oh, we're bleeding out,' was singing in his ears.

He took a short cut and ran as fast as he could to come back home.

Their home. 

Almost.

* * *

_Scene 2 - Unremarkable house_

When he arrived in the long alley heading to the white wooden house, he noticed the two parked cars. Scully was already there and she didn't come alone. The mysterious 'someone' was there too.

He felt a bit disappointed. On his way back he had hoped for an exclusive moment with Scully, for enough time to exchange intimate words and sweet gestures --maybe even more? Yet, in front of the stranger it would undoubtedly be all business right away.

He stepped on the porch, walked towards the door, put his hand on the door handle, and sighed heavily while entering the house.

"Here he is!"

"Still in great shape as far as I can tell."

"Running had always been his thing."

"I'm so happy to visit you two in your house. It's amazing!"

"I'm afraid he has to take a shower ASAP."

"He's so sporty and... muscular."

"It's a nice place to jog with all the natural surroundings."

Blah blah blah.

The words had been launched as soon as Mulder had put a toe inside the house. The constant chat besieging him and making him halt in the doorway was coming from the two women sitting on the couch, each one holding a cup of tea. His lovely redhead and a blonde, vaguely familiar.

"Hi, there!" he only managed to say while Scully quickly reached him and grabbed his arm, leading his body to the bottom of the stairs.

"Mulder, you're completely soaked by sweat, so messy, muddy, and so... bare. You need to go and wash before being polite," Scully said authoritatively, pushing him upwards.

'Bare?' he thought while ascending the stairs. 'I wear shorts and a tank top.'

A few seconds later, he stepped into the shower and let his thoughts focus hard in his memories. Downstairs he had seen their guest for only a few seconds and from a few meters away, but he was sure to know her.

From their past in the FBI... When he came back from the dead.

"Leyla Harrison!" he yelled out loud.

* * *

_Scene 3 - Unremarkable house_

When Mulder had come back downstairs fresh and clean, Scully had settled him beside her on the couch. Leyla was sitting opposite and was facing them in a comfortable armchair.

Leyla was hugely delighted to visit Mulder and Scully in their lovely house and to have a slight insight into their intimate lives. She hadn't really understood what Scully had explained to her about the current unconventional situation of their couple --sparse and unclear words as if Scully had something to hide and had wanted to get rid of this part of their mundane chat.

It didn't matter to Leyla to know the reality because what was clear and loud in front of her was Mulder and Scully's unearthly love for each other.

She couldn't tell if her most significant clue was the way Mulder and Scully were diving into and were giving in to each other's stare; or the way they were lightly touching each other’s body; or just the electricity and change in the air she sensed when these two were only a few inches apart. She just felt blessed to witness once again their interrelationship --bringing sweet memories of a cute banter about an Alien spaceship in Antarctica, when she had been lying in a hospital bed.

She would have to focus hard on her task and be all professional --but damn! That was so difficult for her not to be distracted by these two, completely unaware of the effect they could have on someone else. Not to forget Agent Mulder who had aged like a fine wine... and was so... she couldn't even find the words in her mind, so troubled she was since he had appeared in the threshold.

"I'm so happy to see you, Agent Mulder. Though, I wish it would have been in other circumstances," Leyla said, keeping her inappropriate feelings at bay.

"Just call me Mulder, Leyla. I'm glad to see you too. You seem to have become a fierce Agent in the FBI," Mulder replied, sensing a profound change between the woman he had known back in the days and the one facing him. Despite her shyness right now, he could guess how strong and determined she certainly was in her job --something pouring out from her posture.

"Thanks, you're nice. I'm very sorry to intrude into your home like that. I'd have preferred..." Leyla explained.

"That's okay, Leyla. It's a safe place here, and it was the closest one to be reunited so fast and so easily," Scully interrupted.

"Why the rush? And the secrecy? What's all about?" Mulder asked.

"Skinner advised me to encounter you first, away from the FBI. So you could give me your opinion on something I've dug up. I wanted to meet you in a more neutral place, a coffee shop, but Agent Scully, whom I reached first, proposed your house. I really didn't want to bother you on Sunday and..." Leyla clarified.

"I told you, it doesn't bother us, Leyla. It's more practical for the three of us to meet there. Go ahead," Scully said.

"I'm not sure there's any kind of emergency either. But, once I’d explained my suspicions to Skinner, he told me it was better to handle the situation ASAP. Because maybe one life is currently in danger. At least, it's what my gut is telling me," she added with a smile.

Mulder and Scully looked at each other for a second and nodded in unison.

"Well, believe my experience, your gut can be your best advisor," Mulder said with a big smile.

* * *

_Scene 4 - Unremarkable House_

Mulder and Scully were waving to the car leaving the alley. They were standing on the porch close to each other, like the ordinary couple they were once and would have said goodbye to a friend or a relative visiting them.

In one hour, they would join Leyla and Skinner in the FBI Headquarters. That was the conclusion they reached after hearing Leyla's persuasive speech and arguments.

When the car was out of sight, Mulder instinctively put his right hand on Scully's lower back and began to push her towards the entrance of the house. When he realized what he was doing, he stopped his gesture --maybe Scully would want to take her car and drive to her home promptly. In a moment like this, he would always be oblivious of their current situation.

Mulder leaned his head down and stared at Scully, wondering what he might say to describe their relationship. Scully wasn't living here, but it was still half her house --legally and spiritually. They were spending most of their free time together, but they weren't together in the usual sense. He concluded that the couple they were forming these days was mostly blurry, just a sketch of a drawing full of ghostly lines from the past, waiting to be precisely outlined by the hand of the artist --fate? Scully's choice?-- still hesitant to mark the paper for good.

Scully sensed Mulder's hesitation and stared back at him. She didn't need to ask him what his thoughts were right now. She was able to see through his eyes and to reach his inner soul, especially the part that was concerning them. She could read there all his hopes and expectations, all his vulnerability and sensibility, all his wounds and fears. She was always feeling guilty when she faced them, because she was the one who had left the other one and their home, some years ago. Though, something had changed recently and she could now read confidence, quietness and patience when scrutinizing his eyes. 

This observation made her conscious that she hadn't reached a stable and safe place in her inner soul, and that she hadn't found the right path she would want to take with Mulder. 

Yet.

However, she could be a woman of action and decision for both of them, now and then.

She smiled, took his hand and said:

"I think we have some little time before heading to the FBI. I guess we could take a moment... just the two of us and without mentioning the case."

"Wanna eat something?" Mulder asked as they were entering the house.

"I could say I'm a bit hungry. For a unique taste," Scully replied, stopping them in the living room. "We didn't properly greet each other when you came back from your jog."

Facing him, she enclosed his head with her two hands and pulled it down towards her own face. She then kissed him tenderly and chastely on the lips. Mulder remained mostly passive, enjoying the sensation and pleased that Scully had taken the lead. Nevertheless, he knew how to subtly push her forward.

"Fully satiated?" he whispered softly against her lips, perfectly aware that it wasn't the case. He then held his mouth still on hers, applying a featherly touch on her flesh and sending his warm breath on her delicate skin. 

Scully didn't answer but resumed her kiss after a few seconds, switching it into a deeper one that would give her what she had been craving since Mulder had appeared in the house. They both naturally sank in the embrace, Mulder pulling Scully's body against his and firmly gripping his back with his two hands, Scully scratching his hair and neck. 

Whereas passionately kissing, they were restraining their hands from taking a step forward and touching more sensitive areas. Both weren't sure that indulging in their sexual desire right now would be a good idea, each one for a different reason. Mulder didn't want to just fulfill their physical needs; there was so much deepness and significance he was expecting for the two of them when it came to intimate matters. Scully didn't want to give Mulder false hopes and to mislead him, as long as she wasn't sure of her definitive decision about them.

Mulder broke their kiss and apologized for the hard-on he couldn't hide and which was bumping into her belly:

"I'm sorry... I... don't want to... pressure you... so to say."

"Mulder, never apologize for that," Scully replied. "I'm as aroused as you. If no more."

They stood still for a while, each one pondering their next move. Both wondering if they should endure or put an end to the exquisite torture they were in.

As had happened many times in their past, they reached a common ground at the same moment.

"Just to release..." Mulder started, "... pressure before business," Scully finished.

They were mature adults, after all. They could have sex just for the sake of it, without weighing the act itself with all the confusing feelings of their hearts, and without letting it be a milestone for their relationship.

So, they moved to the couch --for the bed was sacred and inappropriate for an impromptu that would have to remain nonsensical-- and went for a lighthearted casual quickie, Scully straddling Mulder's lap, their bodies half-clothed, their eyes half-closed, and their inevitable moans, half-mouthed.

For they were still halfway from each other one.


	3. ACT ONE - PART TWO

_ Scene 1 - Towards the FBI Headquarters _

They had taken Scully's car so they could discuss the case before reaching the FBI Headquarters and allow Mulder to have a snack --he was utterly starving.

As soon as Scully had turned on the ignition, they had switched into their investigator mode. More precisely, they had genuinely tried, in the beginning.

What they hadn't planned was that they couldn't pretend to act casually and leave their feelings and frustration in their house, on the couch. They had brought a third passenger in the car, sitting on the back seats; they couldn't see it directly, but they could feel its presence. If it had to take shape it would be a big question mark, a symbol for all the questions they would have to answer sooner or later --’Can we really ignore we just made love because we simply love each other?’, ‘What's next from now?’, ‘How do we truly stand today?’, ‘What do we want for our future?’, ‘To spend it fully together, or still on semi-separate paths?’.

Mulder opened the discussion.

"I'm not sure why Skinner wants us on it. Not really X File flavored at first sight," Mulder said while biting on his huge home-made veggie sandwich.

"I guess it's because we are experienced and used to unusual investigations. We also are still some kind of outsiders in the FBI... we can investigate more discreetly. And you were and are a great profiler, never forget that," Scully replied.

"Well... If you say so. I might be a bit rusty."

On these words Scully glanced at Mulder. Rusty? Damn, he had never looked so good and so appealing. How could she even escape him if she ever wanted to? It seemed impossible.

Of course, that wasn't what he had meant, but, for sure, she was convinced that his mind wasn't rusty either.

"Let's focus on Leyla's observations. I found her very convincing," Scully stated.

"She was," he agreed. And, after a chew, "She impressed me."

'And she was amazed by you,' thought Scully. That was one of the things that had ignited her desire: the presence of Leyla and the way Leyla had stared at Mulder. Scully had felt an ounce of jealousy, she couldn’t deny it. And then, there had been the way Leyla had acknowledged both of them --as a legitimate and ordinary couple. That was certainly significant.

"You know, at some point, she had made me think of you," Mulder said, turning his head to admire Scully's profile. "I cannot say why or what... because she's not exactly like you. That was troubling."

'And that had reminded me of so many reasons why I loved and love you. For so long,' thought Mulder. These last weeks, everything would remind him of Scully and his love for her, more strongly than ever. That could be a color in the sky when the sun was setting, a smell from the grass when jogging, a smile on a stranger's face, a line read in a newspaper --seemingly insignificant things and unrelated to Scully, yet overwhelming his brain with intense emotions intricately connected to her. Was he becoming excessively soft and sentimental with age? Was that a problem? He just missed her so much; he just needed her by his side, 24/7. 

“Mulder, wake up! You’re drooling on your sandwich,” Scully launched at Mulder when she realized that he was completely lost in thought.

“What?”

“Nevermind. Finish your snack. We’ll arrive soon.”

While Mulder was busy chewing and swallowing, now fixing blankly the road through the windshield, Scully couldn’t help glancing at his profile. Especially his jaw and his lips in action. How many times had she spent staring at these particular parts of his body? She could lose herself in his movements, scrutinizing every anatomic details, then comparing the subtle differences between the actual scene and the other ones memorized in her neurons --the color of the skin; the state or absence of the stubble; the shape and the contractions of the muscles of his jaw; the motion of the tongue within the mouth that she could only guess. Unfortunately, right now, she couldn’t satisfy her favorite pastime satisfyingly --she was driving. So, she let her thoughts be fueled by sounds and glimpses, and, mixed with reminiscences of their earlier kiss, she fell into a sweet sensual reverie. However, her fantasies became soon punctuated by her lingering doubts and interrogations about their future together.

“Scully?” Mulder suddenly asked after a while that neither of them would have been able to quantify.

“Yeah?”

“I think we’ve almost reached the FBI and we haven’t begun to discuss the case yet.”

“Oh, well... Doesn’t matter. This isn’t  _ our _ case. We’ll do that in the appropriate office.”

Then, after a silent beat: “Scully?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we getting… old?” 

Actually, Mulder had wanted to pronounce another word --like ‘sentimental’, or ‘softhearted’, or ‘wistful’-- but he had preferred to stand on a more neutral ground. 

“Don’t say nonsense, Mulder. We aren’t old,” Scully replied with a big smile and a tap on his thigh. 

* * *

_ Scene 2 - FBI Headquarters _

Skinner was waiting for Mulder and Scully, standing in the doorway of his office. Leyla was already settled around the huge oval desk, piles of sheets scattered in front of her, and rereading for the nth time her notes. The hallway Skinner was scanning was deserted. Only a few people would have a good reason to frequent this part of the building on a Sunday morning. Nevertheless, he was worrying that someone could witness their impromptu secret meeting. 

When he heard the characteristic sound of two people emerging from the elevator, then walking toward his direction before turning the corner and being in sight, he exhaled loudly. Not that the two Agents were late: they were actually one minute early, he had checked his watch. Though, they could have been more prompt. 

His impatience instantly faded away when he saw Scully smiling and staring straight at him, moving in long and determined strides. She was followed by Mulder a few steps behind her, seemingly focused on a spot in Scully’s back and displaying a strange smile on his face. Was Mulder mesmerized by the motion of Scully’s hips, or even her bottom? The thought made Skinner sigh deeply, then smile. He had always had a soft spot for these two and their gooey but idiosyncratic relationship. 

When they reached his door, Skinner moved aside and switched to his usual boss face.

“Agents, thanks for coming. Enter, please,” Skinner said and let them through.

“Thanks for trusting us, Walter,” Scully replied warmly. 

“Our pleasure, A.D. Skinner,” Mulder added with the beginning of a wink. 

Skinner shook his head and rose the corner of his mouth imperceptibly, almost failing to keep his professional face. 

However, once the door was shut upon them, there were nothing but four Agents working on a case and discussing what course of action should be planned. 

* * *

_ Scene 3 - FBI Headquarters _

When he heard Skinner’s office door closing, Tom Colton stepped out of the corner where he was hiding. He hadn’t wanted to be seen but he had wanted to witness their arrival.

Agents Mulder and Scully, Mister and Missus Spooky, the legendary couple, the myth.

Colton hadn’t had a chance to stumble upon them during these last few months, since he had been assigned to the Headquarters. Or, rather, he had cautiously avoided to encounter them. But, today, as they were meeting Leyla, he couldn’t help observing them. 

Dana Scully was still stunning, her beauty and her strength of character floating around her as she was walking along the corridor. She hadn’t climbed the ladder all the way to the top but she had explored so many more challenging and risky roads. With so much talent and adventures.

Unlike himself.

And there was Agent Mulder, always giving off that specific aura of peculiarity and nonchalance, screening his determination and passion. Colton would easily admit that the guy was odd but he would never call him insane again. He would even envy some of Mulder’s feats, these legendary cases he had worked on and that had been spread out in the whole building till these days. 

Nothing compared to his own pathetic records. 

Last, there were the two of them as a whole entity. Always together, a fortress of loyalty. Colton couldn’t believe he had been so foolish and so presumptuous to think he could have broken it, decades ago in Baltimore.

He was so young and naive, back then.

Avoiding to make any noise, Colton was now walking backwards, moving away from Skinner’s office. His intention was to sneak a bit more into the deserted corridors. 

Suddenly, he felt his phone slightly buzz in his back pocket. He picked it up and read the text he had received: ‘Hon, I’m afraid I won’t be back home till evening. Even night. Hoping all goes well with the kids. Kiss.’

An air of guilt on his face, Colton tapped back: ‘Don’t worry. Everything is OK. Do what you have to. Kisses from all of us.’ For a few seconds he hesitated, his thumb hovering over the sending touch on the screen. Then, clenching his jaw and muttering ‘Oh, shit,’ he sent this message. 

Noticing he was standing by a lavatory, he entered the room. He stepped toward the sink and splashed his face with fresh water. Then, he picked up a flyer from an inside pocket of his jacket, and read once again what was written on it.

Looking at his face in the mirror, he quietly but resolutely pronounced the words imprinted: 

‘Make Manhood Great Again.’


	4. ACT TWO - PART ONE

_ Scene 1 - FBI Headquarters _

As every other Agent in the room had already had a brief on the matters bringing them together, Leyla Harrison had gone straight to the task they had to do. 

Skinner had let her take the reins of the meeting, even if Agent Harrison wasn’t in her standard FBI role in doing so --she wasn’t a Field Agent or a supervisor. She had indeed returned and stayed in the accounting part of the Headquarters after her unsuccessful attempt in the X-Files unit, yet evolving brilliantly in her career. She was now a top-notch forensic accountant, tracking international criminals by their financial activities, and could every now and then be assigned to sporadic sensitive missions within the FBI. 

Agent Harrison had always been gifted with a talent to notice and remember seemingly insignificant details in any circumstances, then connecting dots in a way that no one else could have done. This was how she had stumbled upon the potential case they were on. This was how she had connected spare and unspotted events that had happened in the surroundings of the FBI Headquarters during the last three months.

At first, there were only rumors, faint ones spreading out from fitness clubs located in the wide neighborhood of the Hoover building. Women in their early forties who were frequenting these places, always modern, fierce and independent ones, suddenly changed their lives overnight --switching into a more traditional woman stereotype that wasn’t their usual self. Subtle changes in the beginning, even if really surprising for their relatives and acquaintances. 

Then, later, more tangible facts occurred; for the following afflicted women Leyla Harrison could be aware of, the transformation became more radical along with unusual serious psychological disorders. Time passing and her curiosity triggered, Leyla Harrison gathered information and informally investigated the fitness clubs. She discovered strange associated facts, such as the disappearance of the women during one whole night without any clear explanation of that peculiar event, and persistent clues that FBI fellows were somehow involved each time. But she hadn’t been able yet to exhibit more concrete facts. 

Though, the investigation would be a delicate matter, for the potential FBI connection and involvement, and most of all because there were officially no victims, therefore no case. No complaints had been made. 

Skinner took an attentive look at the sheet Agent Harrison had given them, summarizing the mere facts. He conceded that these ones were weak but it was worth considering them, especially with the help of Agents Mulder and Scully who definitely would dig up whatever could be. 

The legendary open minds of the Agents, their efficient synergy and their unconventional career paths would be an advantage to handle the situation as best as possible. Skinner had really missed to work and interact with Mulder and Scully when they had been forced to become outlaws for years, and to remain outsiders when eventually settling down. Even if Mulder was too frequently a pain in the ass, even if --after all these years!-- they would always question his loyalty, and even if the three of them had never acted as genuine buddies, the truth was that Skinner always enjoyed their companies.

Mulder, Scully and Leyla Harrison were now planning a course of action. Skinner was just supervising the whole discussion, nodding from time to time or precising some technical aspects, but essentially letting the three of them manage the details of the leads they would follow today. 

In the end, they agreed to work essentially in pairs --Scully and Harrison going outside in order to encounter some victims and study the medical aspects; Skinner and Mulder staying in the Headquarters, profiling and searching clues within the Bureau. 

As they were about to separate and leave the room, Skinner witnessed Mulder drawing Scully aside and exchanging whispered words, their faces very close to each other. He didn’t want to spy on them but somehow their gestures had attracted his sight. There was something slightly odd between these two today and Skinner could feel it. Turning his head, he sighed, recalling that it was none of his business. 

For the hours to come he will have to essentially deal with Mulder. It would be an interesting and challenging task, for sure. However, he wouldn’t mind spending more time alongside Scully; a more pleasurable occasion, and surely less tainted by testosterone. 

Skinner didn’t develop further his thoughts about the respective merits of the two Agents, because Leyla was receiving a sudden call. It was concerning all of them.

Mrs Catherine Gem, who had disappeared yesterday evening, had returned home this morning in a complete disturbed state. A few hours later, she committed suicide with a wireless drill. In a desperate state and with an unexpected gesture, she had directly drilled into her skull. 

She was miraculously alive and was currently under surgery in the ICU of Georges Washington University Hospital. 

Skinner sighed. 

That was bad news. 

* * *

_ Scene 2 - Coffee shop _

A few hours later, Mulder and Scully entered a coffee shop a couple of blocks away from the FBI building. They both wanted to make a break in their activities and the two of them had already split with their initial pairing --Leyla and Skinner were each following leads on their own. It was Mulder who had texted Scully first and proposed to meet there. 

He needed fresh air, a short walk, good coffee and muffins, and more of all, Scully.

While Scully ordered their drinks and treat, Mulder found a quiet place in the farthest corner of the room. 

“Are you okay?” Scully asked when rejoining Mulder with the muffins. “You seem tired.”

“Profiling for a short intense time and based on so few elements is exhausting. And I’m not sure something useful from my work will sort out at the end of the day,” Mulder replied in a fatalistic tone. 

“We agreed to give it a try today and to extend the investigation tomorrow if nothing comes. That’s wise.”

“Yeah, sure. Hoping there won’t be another victim soon.”

“Why, did you find something?” 

“There was a slight escalation in the acts these last weeks. That makes me worry about the consequences of this slow nevertheless perceptible increasing rhythm. Especially when you notice that this week it’s the International Women's Day.”

“That would be significant?”

“I think our perpetrator, or perpetrators, hates women, with a big H.”

“Mmm…”

“He barely tolerates them as submissive housewives…”

Mulder pronounced the last words staring at Scully, taking in and gauging her whole femininity. From day one he had considered her as a bold goddess, expelled from the sky to join him in the basement. His unique goddess combination of Aphrodite, Calypso and Persephone, and surely so many more. But she wasn’t just astonishingly feminine to his eyes, she could also exhibit countless masculine attributes --as they were conservativelly considered-- or genderless ones, like the complicated vibrant human being she was and that couldn’t be reduced to one classification. 

“Dana and F… Fo… Fox??!” the barista yelled from the counter. 

Mulder sighed heavily. “You shouldn’t order, Scully, it’s really embarrassing.” 

As Scully began to rise, Mulder stopped her, putting his hand on her arm. “Don’t, I’ll face it. I’m a big boy.” 

Scully watched him move away, chat to the barista while picking up their drinks, then come back wearing a boyish sheepish grin on his face. 

She was still surprised after so many years to catch glimpses of his weak spot concerning his first name, an Achilles heel deeply rooted in his childhood and his wounded relationship with his parents. She had tried to reconcile him sparsely and subtly to Fox, a name she had always liked and that suited him, an attempt to apply a balm on his invisible scars. Now, wondering whether she would ever whisper again some more affectionate Fox in his ears on impromptu occasions, she thought that maybe she had to accept this had never been her duty. That it was Maggie’s one, her mom being the only person Mulder had allowed to call him by his given name without reluctance or any limitation. 

Mulder and Maggie… Scully was immensely grateful to Maggie for the genuine bond she had instantly created with Mulder when she first met him, and for accepting him in her family as another son, so soon. How she missed her mom these days! How she needed the wisdom of a mother to help herself make the good choice for her future --if there were such certitude in the world. She was in her fifties, yet she was yearning to be a daughter wrapped in her mom’s embrace and words. She currently had so many questions she wished she could ask her mother --alas, she wasn’t there anymore to give answers and advice.

Scully suddenly felt Mulder’s hand on hers. He was facing her on his seat, an air of concern on his face. 

“Scully, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Mulder asked softly. He had seen her eyes moisten when he had rejoined her and put down the drinks on the table. 

“I’m fine, Mulder,” Scully replied. 

She was aware that he wouldn’t buy it, so she quickly resumed their earlier conversation. Back to the case. 

“So, submissive housewives?” she asked, while swallowing her last sad thoughts along with cake and coffee. 

Mulder followed her on this more secure path, willing to respect her rhythm. He had also sensed that her edgy emotional state wasn’t concerning the case --he suspected that it was an aftermath of their shared foolish act on the couch. 

“Or slaves… Or whatever degrading name you would use if you were one of these awful kinds of men. Sure, even if I’m profiling, I don’t want to dive too far into their minds,” he answered.

“That’s very wise of you,” Scully approved. 

Mulder sipped his coffee thoughtfully after having wolfed his muffin, then asked: 

“Scully, did I ever treat you badly? Like, you know, if you were…” 

He couldn’t help coming back to their relationship. His emotional state was edgy as well. 

“Have you ever been a macho man, Mulder?” Scully interrupted. “Always driving the damn car? Being all territorial about the X-Files and not allowing my name on our office door? Peeing all around your desk in the basement so that I cannot approach and sit in the master chair?” 

“Really? I was that bad? Am I that bad with you?” 

Mulder was genuinely concerned by Scully’s accusations.

Scully reached his left hand and squeezed it tightly.

“No, Mulder… I’m half kidding… You’re a kind and gentle man. And remember that you were a fine and good househusband for years, when you couldn’t go out in the open.” 

“But these qualities didn’t last. Soon, it wasn’t for the better and it didn’t do us any good.  _ I _ didn’t do  _ us _ any good,” Mulder said too fast, instantly regretting it --he didn’t want to let harsh memories resurface. 

Not now. 

“Don’t go there, Mulder. You know, and I know, that the truth is much more complicated than that.” 

Scully wasn’t upset, she was even smiling at Mulder as she added:

“The two of us need to work, to have a purpose and sane challenges. And look, that is exactly what we have now. We are both in a better place and it does us good. So much good.”

“We? Us?”

Scully let the questions float in the air.

“I think it’s time for  _ us _ to go back to our FBI duties, Mulder.”

Obviously, that wasn’t the time and the place to truly discuss their relationship, thought Mulder. But he was patient and he’ll wait. 

Certainly, Scully would be ready to widely open her heart. Soon. 

Very soon.

* * *

_ Scene 3 - In the streets surrounding the FBI Headquarters _

On Scully’s declaration they left the coffee shop, and discussed the case while walking back to the FBI in a slow pace. They were used to exchanging information and arguments when in movement, especially when driving for long hours. The scrolling of the monotonous landscapes through glass helped their minds to analyze, make links or bring back old knowledge and memories. They had missed an occasion earlier in Scully’s car, but now they could count on the sight of their feet gliding over the grey pavement to trigger their brainstorming.

Scully quickly shared the new elements she and Leyla had found about the victims. The whole case was more troubling than it had appeared earlier, when scrutinized by MD’s eyes and a scientific mind. Mulder took in the information and tried to reconcile it with his own previous research. Something was odd and was puzzling him, his brain already elaborating new theories. 

“So, Scully, have you a scientific or medical opinion on this whole case? Is it possible to radically change someone's personality against one’s will?”

“Of course not.”

“You agree that there’s something unusual happening and that there must be a scientific explanation?”

“Obviously.”

“And?”

“The perpetrator might have used neurotoxins, drugs, medications, or extreme psychological methods to coerce the victim’s will and behavior.”

“It’s much more than coercing or putting  _ The Whammy  _ on someone. We speak about extreme alterations lasting for weeks, and that had occurred within a short time and without any recollection from the victims. A true tour de force! How’s that?”

Scully didn’t answer immediately, pondering what rational arguments she could add. The truth being that she was at a loss to propose a solid proof theory for the case. Scully had seen a lot of strange phenomena in the past and she was now prompt to believe in extreme possibilities, yet, she would never give up her faith in science and objective facts. 

“There’s surely a favorable psychological or neurological background allowing the malleability of the victims’ mind,” she finally said.

“Really?” 

“The perpetrator must have targeted his victims precisely. He might have access to medical files.” 

“Have you already found facts supporting that?”

“Actually, not at all. On the contrary. All the victims we are aware of seem to have a history of perfect health. Mentally and physically.”

“Does that make sense to you?”

“Honestly, not.”

They made a pause in the discussion for a few minutes, thinking and walking. 

“There’s always hidden secrets, maybe you didn’t find them yet. Will you dig up deeper on that medical aspect?” Mulder proposed.

“That would be difficult to have better access, as there is no official case yet. We won’t have any warrant to do so. But there could be a way. First, there’s Mrs Gem who committed suicide and that we should be able to interview soon. Second, Leyla had suggested trying a hypnosis regression on one other victim. It seems that the woman is not against the idea. Leyla is currently working on it. I’ll tell you when it’s ready for us to attend the session.”

“Oh… You know I’m a sucker for hypnosis. But I’m surprised that you are not telling me it’s nonsense.”

“Actually, it might help us find evidence and prove that the victims were kidnapped or taken against their will. All the women are reporting and sharing an equivalent unconvincing scenario explaining their disappearance. There’s too much coincidence in these facts, too much improbability in the similarities of their narratives. It’s like they had been…”

“...brainwashed purposefully,” Mulder interrupted. “Or, as if a predetermined specific narrative had been implanted in their mind. By remote manipulation of the brain.” 

Scully stopped abruptly, grabbing Mulder’s arm to make him halt. 

“Wait. Are you telling me that you already had a theory? Beyond the classic profiling you made?”

“I might.”

“Why didn’t you get straight to the point? Why didn’t you object to my arguments?”

“I wanted to listen to your whole rational opinion, Scully. I always want to.”

“I’m not buying that... There’s more.”

“Well...”

“Something you’re reluctant to tell me.”

Mulder took Scully’s hands in his ones and faced her.

“Remember what Doctor Joyet had told us when you had your seizures. Here is the nexus of government agencies doing secret brain experiments. Maybe all this is somehow related to you… And to William.”

“Oh… I see… It’s what you believe?”

“I’m not sure. Right now I don’t have a strong hunch about that. But it might.”

“So, is this truly an X File, after all? In which we could find answers? About us?”

Mulder took in Scully’s reaction for a few seconds and held his breath. Witnessing Scully’s struggle as she faced possibilities of hope in the midst of dark uncertainties was always heartbreaking for him. 

“Maybe, Scully... Maybe,” he whispered, wishing that they hadn’t just stepped in a path that would leave some more scars in Scully’s heart.

* * *

_ Scene 4 - In the streets surrounding the FBI Headquarters _

Still holding hands, Mulder and Scully had quietly resumed their walk back to the Hoover building, neither of them willing to let the other one go, and each of them having gut-wrenching thoughts about their son. 

When they had arrived at the entrance of the FBI they had first stood still for a little while, both unsure of what they could say or do to lift their mutual mood. Yet, these few seconds of uncertainty and awkwardness had quickly vanished, scattered by the most simple gestures. They were indeed experienced enough to know that sometimes there was nothing much to do but squeeze hands tighter and smile warmly at each other. A simple but effective trick they could count on anytime it was needed.

Then, as they had to go back to their own fields of investigation, they reluctantly took separate paths --Mulder entering the building and Scully walking to the parking lot. 

Mulder was heading towards the basement with a pang in his heart. How come he was feeling so emotional today? He was having a hard time leaving his personal feelings at bay and letting Scully follow her own line of investigation too far away from him. Today was Sunday and he and Scully weren’t supposed to work at all. Not that he had planned something special, not even to spend part of the day with her. Yet, this early morning, he had expectations to join her at some point and enjoy doing meaningless and simple things together. For it was their routine lately. The first one who was longing for the other one’s company, had a stimulating thought or an unexpected interest to share, or had a sudden desire to engage both of them in a homey activity, was making the call or texting to summon the other one. Interestingly enough, when doing so, the unremarkable house was most of the time their meeting place. 

Meanwhile, Scully was driving with resolute gestures. She was trying to focus back on the matters of her duty, struggling to avoid thinking too much about the interlude she had with Mulder and its emotional implications. She had always been an expert at storing her feelings in a spare room of her mind and building a wall around her sensitive heart --a way to be fully operational at work. Still, she was getting weary of her behavior which was consuming so much energy and willpower. Wasn’t she supposed to take a break with her pretence, especially around Mulder? To capitulate and just let him know how she was feeling, how she was craving his presence, when she sensed cracks and wounds in her inner body? 

Parking the car near the George Washington University Hospital, she made a promise to herself. She would open up more easily to Mulder if need be, especially when a case on the field would sneak under her skin. 

Leaving the parking lot, she hesitated for a few seconds to text Mulder, seeking his reassurance through a brief exchange, but she changed her mind.

Next time, she would.


	5. ACT TWO - PART TWO

_ Scene 1 - FBI Headquarters _

Mulder was now focusing on his additional theory with the help of Skinner. He was seeking clues and links between the MK Ultra Project --or other related secret experiments-- and the FBI. Skinner was providing him access --as much as he could-- and his deep knowledge of the complex machinery that were the Headquarters. 

At first, Skinner had been hesitant about Mulder’s new interest, but there was no point not following him. Before joining Scully in the coffee shop, Mulder had exhausted all the factual information they were aware of for his initial tentative profiling. Not much helpful material had sorted out and now they needed fresh insights. Plus, as Skinner had already gathered a lot of elements since their morning meeting, it was almost just a question of pinning down the most relevant ones under their new perspective on the case. 

“Mulder… why do you always come back to the X-Files?” Skinner asked, gesturing to the files spread over Mulder’s desk in the basement. Skinner was standing in the doorway, coming back from an errand in other parts of the building. 

“Well, I assure you it wasn’t my first intent. I have let room to classical profiling and to any rational explanation Scully would give me,” Mulder replied with a broad smile, leaning back in his chair. 

Skinner nodded and stated, still standing at the entrance of the office: “There couldn’t have been any progress in these X-Files without her scientific expertise.” 

“Sure, Skinner. She had always kept me guessing, working hard and getting better. That’s a thing that has never changed and will ever continue,” Mulder said. 

Then, after a beat, Mulder muttered in a lower and quivering voice: “In every single aspect of my whole damn life…”

These last words made Skinner look down at his shoes. He wasn’t used to receiving such implied confidence from Mulder about his personal life. 

Sensing Skinner’s unease, Mulder quickly found back his more factual tone. 

“Well... Scully’s still searching rational explanations on our case, Skinner. Maybe she’ll laugh at me in five minutes,” he said. “Because she’d have found the ultimate scientific argument involving the latest discoveries in stochastic quantum nanoneuroscience.”

Skinner stepped forward, smiling. 

“Couldn’t it simply be a Pusher-like situation?” he asked when reaching the desk.

“No. The effects of the Pusher’s whammy didn’t last so long, and he had to remain close to his victims,” answered Mulder.

“I see.”

Skinner lifted the folder he was handling and flipped the sheets of paper. 

“Mulder, you could be right. Trespassing some deeper inner lines I might have found interesting information on some of our fellow employees,” Skinner stated while stretching out his hand towards Mulder. “Don’t spread out I’m the FBI whistle-blower.”

Mulder raised from his chair to pick up the folder hanging over the desk.

“Really? That was so simple to find something?” Mulder asked.

“When you’re as old as me in these walls, you notice the strangest things and you can trespass bastions. Recently there had been changes in a small subsection of our Public Corruption section. The few Agents operating there have seemingly original behaviors, according to the other fellows gravitating in this part of the building. Gossips describe this group of men as a kind of macho and misogynist sect, their chief being the guru.”

“Gossips?”

“Leyla, and… er... Holly tipped me on that particular point,” Skinner admitted.

“Holly? You involved her?” Mulder asked, surprised.

“Well… We can trust her,” Skinner replied, a little blush pinking his cheeks.

Mulder didn’t react to the insinuation and ran his eye over the file.

“This man, Brian T. Riddle?” Mulder asked while pointing at a name below a photo ID on one of the sheets.

“Yes. Look further. I was able to find he’s coming from some obscure branch of DARPA, where he operated for a few years before entering the FBI. He was working in a neuro-psychological lab under the supervision of Dr Sophia. Of course, that’s the only facts I could track down in such a short time.”

“No more details about him? What was he doing before that?”

“There’s a brick wall here. He comes out of nowhere. And I doubt it’s his real name.”

Mulder pondered the information.

“And, is there more about the gossip?” Mulder questioned.

“Yeah…” 

Skinner raised his hand to form air quotes when adding: 

“This man and his fellows --just young pawns with no specific background-- ‘have been assigned under an unofficial procedure in order to infiltrate the FBI and sabotage political investigations. A secret weapon or shield for the actual resident of the White House’.”

“Wow… POTUS? What the hell?“ 

* * *

_ Scene 2 - George Washington University Hospital _

Scully’s first concern when arriving at the ICU had been to check Mrs Gem’s medical state. The woman was still in a very critical condition after her surgery and it wasn’t sure yet she would make the day. 

As there was nothing she could do on that matter, her second concern had been to have access to the medical files about the patient, especially the results of all the brain imageries that had been made. Scully would surely have to pull some strings to succeed, but she was always glad to be challenged in a medical environment.

An hour later, she had obtained enough elements to have an idea of what might have happened to this poor woman, or, actually, to have no satisfactory ideas about medical and scientific explanations concerning her state. 

Pekka Suunistus, the neurologist she had spoken with, had shown her the MRI images of the brain, displaying several oddities that couldn’t be analyzed and interpreted with his actual knowledge. Moreover, the surgery had also revealed unusual abnormalities on the brain cells. All these observations were leading to further studies that had only been started. No conclusion could be stated right now, except that the patient would launch intensive scientific and medical research about her condition, in collaboration with the Helsinki Brain&Mind neuroscience hub.

Scully had then concluded that Mulder was certainly right, that this case could be a true X file and might in some way be connected to secret experiments. 

Were sick people out there playing with people’s brains, overturning the life of honest citizens for no reasons? 

Pushing one of them --a brilliant lawyer-- to an extreme action in order to ease the pain and the suffering she was going through? 

Digging a hole in your own skull in a desperate attempt to restore your own normality, that was what Mrs Gem had done unexpectedly in front of her husband. She might have somehow felt that something was entirely wrong within her, but, as her discernment had been completely damaged, she had acted insanely. 

How terribly awful.

On these thoughts, Scully quickly pushed away a resurfacing memory of herself strapped on a dentist chair, threatened by a mad man holding a long ice pick. But she couldn’t help reliving and reflecting upon the treatment Mulder had inflicted on himself once --receiving a dangerous and insane experimental procedure from Dr Goldstein to recover childhood memories. Mulder was an intelligent man, nevertheless, in an act of ultime desperation, he had put his life in jeopardy. 

So, what had happened to Mrs Gem was not so surprising, after all. 

Especially when knowing that the brain was mostly an uncharted territory and that there were still so many things to discover. It was a frail organ, so sensitive to stimuli, chemicals, feelings and passions, hate and love. 

Scully’s own brain had recently suffered sudden seizures and been overwhelmed by unexpected visions. As for Mulder, even if he was now displaying health and stability, she had to admit that he had had his share of serious problems and disorders concerning his brain. 

Thus, certainly, they were both vulnerable and would remain exposed to threats coming from inside or outside themselves.

Though, without dismissing her recent seizures, Scully was prone to believe that Mulder was the most at risk between the two of them, if just considering his recent severe depression. 

Of course, she would always care for him and protect him, whatever threat would cross his path. At any cost. 

Wouldn’t it be better, then, to just live by his side? 

Every single day and night?

In their home? 

* * *

_ Scene 3 - Center for integrative Medicine - George Washington University Hospital  _

Thirty minutes later, a hypnosis regression on Mrs Laia Phoenix was about to be performed in a cozy office of the Center for Integrative Medicine, part of the GWU Hospital. 

When the meeting had been put together, Mulder had promptly joined Scully and Leyla at the hospital. However, since his arrival, he had kept a low profile and had been sitting still at the back of the room, as far away as he could from Mrs Phoenix. Indeed, when he had been introduced to her, he had witnessed a subtle shudder going through her body and sensed an unconscious aversion to him. Really wanting to not miss the hypnosis session, he had then stepped away and hoped his mere presence wouldn’t perturb it. 

As Scully was sitting just ahead of him, partly hiding his body to Mrs Phoenix, the woman seemed now to have forgotten that he was in the room. Noticeably, she hadn’t shown any sign of disturbance in Doctor Heitz Werber’s presence, making Mulder conclude that there was definitely a FBI-male dread at work.

Fortunately, Mrs Phoenix was highly responsive and soon Doctor Werber had made her gone three weeks ago, the night she had disappeared. 

As instructed by Leyla Harrison, Doctor Werber had tried to move backwards so they could obtain insights of the events happening days or hours before. It had been a failure. There was a two weeks time span in Mrs Phoenix's memory that seemed undecipherable. For the fateful day of her disappearance, there was a brick wall they couldn’t pass through. They were unable to gather the slightest useful information about her work out session at the fitness club, and how and when she left the place. 

Mulder even noticed that the vague narrative about the event itself she was producing under hypnosis was completely different from the one she had stated to Leyla. 

The statement she was now narrating was suspiciously staged, as if she was displaying another kind of fake memory that had been implanted in her brain cells. As if different layers of manipulation and false memories had been performed on this poor Laia. Erasing for good and forever the truth and the objective facts concerning her kidnapping and her brainwashing. 

Mulder shivered to the evil idea and all its consequences. And what if these people were really working for the actual awful POTUS? That was a nightmare.

Regaining concentration, Mulder tried to focus on the most insignificant details given by Mrs Phoenix, taking notes on his phone. Because even if they were false, a few could be meaningful or revealing a lead. Because in all this madness, they could only count on their perspicacity and their determination.

Laia’s tale story was in fact a pure nightmare and it had soon reached a peak of terror and insanity. At first, Doctor Werber’s voice had flinched for a little while. Then, after telling the assembly that he would ensure the woman won’t remember anything of the regression, the therapist remained steady.

Mulder’s hand was trembling as he tapped words on the tiny screen. He wondered if he should have taken instead a notepad and a pen, but he wasn’t sure his handwriting would have been decipherable afterwards. 

Scully turned her head around and launched a concerned and empathic look to him. Mrs Phoenix was indeed describing an almost typical scenario of Alien experiments on abductees, involving tight straps, a cold-like-stone long chair, blinding white lights and several horrible instruments probing and piercing flesh. 

Except that there weren’t Aliens but a bunch of tall white men surrounding her, and voices chanting and claiming messages about triumphant maleness overpowering degenerated and worthless femaleness. 

This strange combination had triggered the most nightmarish remembrances still haunting Mulder. Because he had never forgotten the scars of lacerations his body was exhibiting in the immediate aftermath of his resurrection. Because, contrary to Scully, he had kept in mind vivid glimpses of his abduction and painful flashes of his torture sessions in a spaceship. 

Mulder held a stare back at Scully for a few seconds and muttered a silent ‘I’ll be okay.’ 

And that was true. He was fully aware of his weakness, he knew he could easily be overwhelmed and disturbed --as he was right now-- but he was certain to overcome quickly this uneasiness. Because Scully was close by. Because he was so steady for a few months. Because he had a stubborn determination to take care of her and their relationship.

At the end of the session, Mrs Phoenix had been handed over to her caring husband who had stayed in the waiting room. Letting Leyla and Doctor Werber take charge of this follow-up, Mulder had grabbed Scully’s arm and shared his first conclusions with her. 

Mostly, Mulder was convinced that they needed to bring attention to some details he was finding relevant. He showed Scully what he had highlighted on his phone, and pointed out a few particular expressions. 

Among them: 

‘Tom’

‘Ties’

‘UST’

‘Make Manhood Great Again’ 


	6. ACT THREE - PART ONE

_ Scene 1 - FBI Headquarters _

Having reached the middle of the afternoon, the FBI agents were once again all reunited in Skinner’s office for a debriefing session, a takeaway party, and preparation for the end of the day.

Decision had indeed been taken to attempt setting a trap this evening, even if the odds were largely against them and if they obviously had a major lack of task force. 

They would have a chance to officially open a case, soon. 

Leyla --thanks to the help of the victim’s relatives-- had been able to quietly diffuse into the mind of some of the women the idea they would have to complain. But this was a long and tough work that had just begun.

Mulder had then urged them to do something meanwhile --anything in their capacity, however paltry it could appear. In four days was Women’s Day, convincing Mulder that the perpetrators --as it seemed now that a bunch of devious guys were involved-- would necessarily operate, probably on a larger scale. They had acted yesterday on Mrs Gem, they would presumably continue this evening and each day this week. 

Furthermore, in order to gather deeper information, the fitness clubs would need now to be visited and properly investigated.

But, presently, all the agents were just busy filling their stomachs while relaxing and chatting. 

Skinner had finally made Holly join them, as she had expressed to him that she was eagerly willing to help tonight. These two were sitting side by side, and the way they were acting together was revealing an intimate bond that Mulder and Scully hadn’t suspected prior to this day. 

Mulder, immensely glad to be reunited with Scully, bent his head and murmured in her ear: “Baldy Skinman and Pretty Holly, what a lovely couple.”

“I’m afraid Leyla feels lonely, seated alone, too far away from us,” replied Scully, whispering back close to his face.

“She seems OK. Look, she’s busy texting... to her hubby and her kids, I guess. She should have been with her family today.”

“You’re right. She surely has a lovely home to come back when it’s finished,” sighed Scully.

Mulder squeezed Scully’s hand in his own.

“I’m sure we would have spent the evening watching a soapy movie, drinking beers, then savouring sushi on the couch... If we hadn't been expelled out of our deserved quiet Sunday,” he said.

“Soapy? Sushi?”

“Well, whatever you would have wanted to, Scully. It was your turn to choose.”

“Indeed.”

And then, Scully bit fiercely in her huge meaty burger. 

“I sense that you are in a sushi vibe, these days,” Mulder muttered after a little while, his mouth full of greasy fries.

“How come?”

“My gut, Scully.”

* * *

_ Scene 2 - FBI Headquarters _

Mulder was pacing the hallway, anxiously waiting for Scully. 

She had disappeared just after their quick early-diner, leaving all of them on an impulse and promising she won’t be long. 

He wondered what was in her head to act so strangely. And she hadn’t told him, or any of them, anything except she  _ won’t be long _ . Wasn’t she aware of his state of mind today? That he was worried this case could ultimately shake them, if not affect them intimately?

Mulder stopped, checked his watch, didn’t feel relieved and sighed heavily. A sudden hand tapping his left shoulder made him startle. 

“Don’t be so nervous, Mulder,” said a low voice behind him.

Skinner.

Mulder turned around and shrugged. 

“Yeah, you’re right. Always keeping me guessing,” he replied. “Why bother?”

“Go and take some fresh air,” Skinner advised.

“Right... Rather some fresh water to cool my high-pressure head.”

In long strides Mulder headed to the restroom. He indeed needed to release his body in many ways. 

After having drenched the urinal and cleansed his hands, Mulder flushed his face and neck with cool water at the sink. Feeling better, he stood in front of the mirror, observing his face. 

What was Scully seeing when she was staring at him? Was she noticing his deeper wrinkles? His thickening features? His more pronounced drooping eyelids? Did that really matter? He hoped she just could see him the way he wanted to be perceived. Obviously aging and changing but confidently wiser and mature. Undoubtedly severely presbyopic --he’d have to really face it and buy new glasses-- but still eager to overuse his eyes to marvel at the wonders of the world, to look for the tiniest brightness into darkness, and to endlessly send sparks of love and admiration towards Scully. 

And wasn’t he one of the luckiest men on Earth to have still thick hair on his head? Healthy teeth? Whole playgrounds being at hand --and mouth-- just for her. 

Also, under his hair and skull, was a brain that had suffered a lot and gone through chemical imbalance, yet was still functioning so well. With time, it had even softened and fattened, settling into the warmness and coziness of regular oxytocin baths, and becoming less sensitive to the adrenaline shots it was addicted to in its youth. 

Aging had definitely some advantages and he would be an idiot not to acknowledge them when they were displayed face to face. 

A buzz made him blink and woke him up from his self-enchantment. 

He quickly read the text that had been sent. ‘Coming back very soon. I got you a workout outfit.’

So, that was it? A mere matter of workout outfits?

Now, he really needed to follow Skinner’s advice and get some fresh air.

Ten minutes later, Mulder was pacing the underground parking of the Hoover building, still waiting for Scully, but not anxious anymore --he was just slightly impatient. He also had obviously given up the idea of freshness. This quality was really lacking in the stagnant air he was breathing.

Five more minutes later, the quintessence of freshness was walking towards Mulder, almost making him lose his whole mind and breath.

He definitely should have gotten some fresh oxygen before haunting the parking lot. 

  
  


* * *

_ Scene 3 - FBI Headquarters - Parking lot _

The first thoughts bursting into Mulder’s mind were all spooky ones, coming directly from the outskirts of his reptilian brain, a location that was prompt to jump into the most paranormal explanations --because it was just the way it had been shaped for decades. 

Mulder thought of parallel universes, time travels, fountains of youth or witcheries. He was even waiting for the sudden appearance of Rod Serling telling him he had entered another dimension. Another dimension of mind blowing. Another dimension of sight.

For this was Scully walking quietly and voluptuously in his direction, except that it wasn’t the Scully he had seen earlier. 

For the Scully he was staring at was sixteen years younger. 

For the Scully who had stopped a few inches in front of him was the one he had known when they were outlaws and on the run. When they were only two against the world and beyond. When one single spark in Scully’s eyes was instantly setting him on fire. When they were relentlessly moaning and coming out loud under starry skies in the middle of nowhere. 

Mulder closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, trying to call back the blood that was dangerously heading down his body, trying to make his vital fluid flood his brain instead. 

He really needed to buy new glasses.

When he opened his eyes, Scully was smiling at him, seemingly satisfied by her effect. 

Focusing his sight on her face and her head, Mulder updated his judgement. Scully wasn’t sixteen, but ten years younger --was it less insane?-- and she definitely had new hair.

“Mulder, it’s me,” Scully said.

“Yeah, if you say so.”

“Come on… Stop staring at me like that.”

“It’s just that... you’re such a sight to behold.”

“You know what we say, all is  _ in the eye of the beholder _ .”

“Rod, step out of this body!”

“Wait, what?”

“The Twilight Zone, Scully. You made me enter in an episode of The Twilight Zone.”

“Ah… Maybe in one of the revivals. Look at us, we are not black and white.”

“Well… Your hair is black, and I’m sure my face is white. All the blood has been drained… elsewhere.”

Scully took Mulder’s right hand in her spare left one --she was holding a sports bag in her right-- and led him towards the elevator.

“A shame we don’t have time...” she replied once they walked, “To enjoy your elsewhere.” 

“Then, what’s the point, if not making us relive our glorious performances on the run?” Mulder asked.

“To become an unrecognizable bait, in her early forties.”

“I thought Holly was meant to be the one.”

“There’s room for the two of us. We would be able to split our team and share the task.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Yeah. I wanna catch these bastards.”

They entered the elevator and stood side by side, facing the mirrored side. Scully was adjusting a couple of strands from her wig and was checking her rejuvenating make-up --she had learned some useful tricks, back in the days, when they had been outlaws. 

“Scully, you didn’t need this disguise. You’re still looking so young,” Mulder said, contentedly gazing at her reflection in the mirror.

“Flatterer,” Scully answered with a wide smile.

When they arrived on the right floor, the sound of the opening door made Mulder land back on Earth and in the reality of their investigation.

“Scully… What if I lose concentration… What if I’m not able to be focused because your attire and features are blurring my mind?” Mulder asked, concerned by whatever could happen wrong to Scully.

Scully stopped the already shutting elevator door with her foot, locked Mulder’s eyes and took a serious tone.

“I always trust you to save me, Mulder.”


	7. ACT THREE - PART TWO

_ Scene 1 - Four Seasons Fitness Club - Washington DC _

Scully couldn’t deny that she was having fun despite the seriousness of the situation.

She had always liked to exercise her body but had never --or sparsely-- practice in such conditions. Showing off her athletic physique and her muscular calves in a room filled with other sweating bodies. Under the sight of dozens of strangers. 

With all Mulder’s eyes on her as she was working out. 

Two accurate eyes that were discreetly watching her back --in many ways-- as she was doing her best to attract men’s attention. Trying to mousetrap devious men who couldn’t stand women like the image she was portraying --like her, minus a few years. 

That was an enjoyable feeling. For a little while. 

Because she couldn’t keep on thinking of Mulder’s presence for too long. Because, soon, she couldn’t help thinking about these bastards and their victims. 

Scully was conscious that they were taking an improbable gamble. What were the odds that she, a newbie in the club, would drag attention and would lure these men if they were ever there? That they wouldn’t be highly suspicious? 

And how was she supposed to convey the whole supposed subtext making her a perfect potential victim? 

‘Hey, don’t you see I’m the archetype of a successful and independent woman, who doesn't give a shit about your archaic viewpoint on women, does whatever she wants to in her life --professionally and personally-- and will never be interested in your pathetic person?’ 

Well, maybe that wasn’t too hard to advertise because that was exactly her. 

* * *

_ Scene 2 - Four Seasons Fitness Club - Washington DC _

Mulder couldn’t deny that he was enjoying the situation despite his concentration.

He was at ease training his muscles, sweating and exhibiting his good --god?-- sculpted body within this spacious temple of fitness worship. Though, it was too bad he had to keep a low profile, to remain at the back of the room and avoid drawing attention to himself. Avoiding the sight of dozens of strangers.

Avoiding being stared at by Scully who was working out in the center of the room and had to ignore him.

But bound to be all eyes on her. Compelled to watch her lovely back and admire her perfect legs and muscular calves moving up and down. Letting his visual brain imagine Scully’s smiling face while making efforts, and picture her exquisite chest squeezed in a tight T-shirt.

That was indeed pleasurable and thrilling. For a little while.

Because he couldn’t keep on daydreaming about Scully for too long. Because, soon, he couldn’t help thinking about these bastards and their victims. 

Mulder knew that they were playing with luck and happenstance. Betting they had chosen the right places --Holly and Skinner in other ones, Leyla backing them up and supervising-- at the right moments. That they could count on Mulder’s hunches --like choosing this first Four Seasons Club because of its catchy name-- and on the stupidity and heedlessness of these guys. 

Yet, these men surely weren’t that idiot. And they were dangerous. That was a risky game their undersized FBI team was playing at.

Scanning the whole room for the nth time, Mulder suddenly felt a side stitch when laying his eyes on a few men that had gathered far away in a corner. He instantly knew that the stinging pain wasn’t due to exercising but had this special sharpness and tasteness of a gut-hunch.

And Mulder was always trusting his gut --with or without glasses. 

* * *

_ Scene 3 - Outside the Four Seasons Fitness Club  _

The short dead-end alley was dark, smelling bad and trash dirty. How could it be possible such a decor would exist in such a posh neighborhood? 

Mulder had tailed the three guys spotted a moment ago, and, after moving along obscure corridors leading to the back of the building, he had landed in that shabby space. Seemingly empty.

It was smelling bad and not good at all. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to properly communicate with Scully when he had left his treadmill. Now, he was worrying he or she would be mousetrapped. 

It was indeed stinking and he was smelling a rat.

Walking nevertheless a few steps forward --because his freaking Fox gut told him so-- a chilly movement of air made him shiver, the sweat moistening his bare arms and legs freezing in an instant. 

He would be damned to have followed his intuition without care. He would be punished to have let his youthful impulses override his mature cautiousness. 

All that because Scully had undeniably fogged part of his ripe mind. 

He knew he had made a wrong move before even seeing or hearing any of them. He knew he was concomitantly putting Scully in danger before any imminent peril showed its ugly face.

And that realization hit him harsh in his heart.

As he was instantly overpowered in this dark alley, all he heard was ruffled noises and a ‘TOM!’ war cry; all he saw through tears of self-anger and helplessness were limbs, hands, blurry faces, and letters on red caps.

‘MMGA.’ 


	8. ACT FOUR - PART ONE

_ Scene 1 - Unknown Place _

Moans and groans. Inhaling, exhaling. Wince and frown.

Mulder was restrained in his movements, fastened to a cold-like-stone long chair and unable to move his limbs and head for inches. Regaining a state of semi-consciousness after having been knocked out in the alley, he was restlessly struggling, instinctively pushing and pulling, forcing his trained body to overcome his chains. As if his last experience with the bad Russian guys of Purlieu Services had left hope and pluckiness in his muscles that were now acting by themselves.

Grinning under physical pain, eyes closed, his mind was meanwhile spiraling into limbo. Unable to settle, travelling through time and place. Restlessly coming back to the most nightmarish place imprinted on his brain cells, the Alien spaceship. Circling around remnants of utter pain and desperation, accompanied by lyrics dancing on a loop in his brain --‘all the blood that I will bleed, I don't know where I belong, I don't know where I went wrong.’ 

Tears and howls. Huffing, puffing. Distress and agony. 

Then, through the maelstrom of his confusing and painful sensations emerged a point of focus, inexorably attracting his attention and making his thoughts converge to it. 

Scully.

The image of Scully waiting on the porch of their house.

'Love we need it now, Let's hope for some, Cause oh, we're bleeding out,' was now looping in his mind.

He managed to cut and run from the dark Alien ship and to come back home. 

To anchor his thoughts to their shared home. 

To Scully. 

* * *

_ Scene 2 - Inside and Outside the Four Seasons Fitness Club _

When Mulder had begun to tail the few suspicious men in the corridors of the gym club, Scully had immediately sensed a pang in her stomach. 

Something important was happening. Or, rather, something dangerous was likely to happen to Mulder. 

Scully hadn’t been surprised to be warned this way and she hadn’t wasted her precious time and rational mind to figure out the hows and the whys. 

With time, she and Mulder had learned to be confident that parts of their brains --their hearts and souls, would rectify Mulder-- would connect when needed. Neither of them believed they had psychic abilities, yet both were convinced they were able to sync their minds and feelings, especially in tense and crucial situations. Not that they had ever wanted to find any kind of explanation for what they were used to experiencing. It was just there between them, for decades, and if they had to put words on it, that would simply be trust and love.

Scully had been upset that she hadn’t made any eye contact with Mulder before his disappearance from the exercise room. However, and despite the sense of emergency she had felt through her skin, Scully had acted cautiously and quietly. Taking time to reach Leyla and explain the situation, she had then discreetly left the room and tracked Mulder’s path --forced to suddenly act in total contrast with her previous attitude. 

This is how she had landed in a dark alley behind the building of the fitness club.

It was dark, smelling bad and trash dirty.

And, as much as she could say with her flashlight app, there was no sign of Mulder. No way to track him from his cell phone either --she had lost his signal when she had left the exercise room.

Another sudden sharp pain in her belly made her wince and flinch for a few seconds. 

“MULDER!!!” she impulsively cried out loud into the darkness, realizing afterwhile that it was a foolish thing to do. 

She inwardly swore at herself, and focused on her surroundings. There must be clues to find. 

“Agent Scully!” a voice emerged a few meters from her. “Dana! Over there!”

On these words, a man stepped out from what seemed to be a cranny in the wall opposite Scully. 

Scully picked up her gun, faced the man, and cried: “Don’t move! Hands up!”

Spotlighting the head of the man who was obedient, she recognized the smiling shy face under a red cap displaying the ‘MMGA’ lettering. 

“Tom?” Scully asked, lowering her gun. “Is that you?” 

* * *

_ Scene 3 - Unknown Place _

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’

The yells suddenly invaded Mulder’s peaceful place on the porch, catching him off guard as he was tightly cuddling Scully and whispering sweet words in her ear. His real body had even succeeded to completely relax, giving up any idea of freeing itself by its own will. 

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’

Mulder opened his eyes with a jolt. 

Desolation and agony immediately hit his whole body, making him choke then gasp for air. Punched by a freezing cold licking his skin and a sharp pain stabbing his limbs and back, he realized in a flash that he was completely naked, tightly fastened to a cold-like-stone long kind of seat --more a metallic skeleton than a sofa. And, surrounded by darkness. 

Persuaded that he was once again in the damn Alien ship, he panicked.

“SCULLAAAY!!! SCULLAAAY!!!” he shouted as loud as he could, launching into hell his own magical incantation. The one that would have the power to save and free him from this nightmare.

“Freaking out like a sissy chick, Mister Fox Mulder?” asked a low voice emerging from the darkness and the chanting.

At least it was no Aliens, thought Mulder, released he wasn’t doomed once more. 

“Mister Brian T. Riddle, the Brain Eater, I presume?” he managed to say, retrieving some clarity in his head. 

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’ 

In the background, the chanting was punctuating the dark scene. At that moment, Mulder became aware of the locution hymned by many male voices.

“Tom?” Mulder questioned. “Tom Riddle? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?” 

Sniping pop quips was helping him recover his mind and appease his anxiety; and, he hoped, buy time to be saved and to keep his brain in one piece. 

“Spooky Funny Mulder… Living up to your reputation!” the voice answered.

“What’s yours, creepy Tom?”

“I thought you were more clever. So, you didn’t figure it out? The meaning of TOM? It’s not my middle name.”

“An acronym? Trump’s Our Master?”

“The President is just a diverting puppet, a means for our greater purpose. The advent of the  _ True Over Men _ .”

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’ 

“You mean, the old concept of Über Mensch? You’re lacking originality… What are you rebooting? Nietzsche? Superman?” Mulder said, stunned by such stupidity. 

And he added, with all the scorn he could put in his words: 

“I can tell you that once I encountered an Ubermenscher Tulpa. It was all  _ garbage _ . Literally. Like you and your Toms are.”

“Wow! Mister Mulder... It will be a great pleasure for me to play along with your smart brain. And to turn it into  _ true garbage _ .”

The devious man was standing behind the chair, hidden from Mulder’s sight --an invisible malignant threat inches from his head. Mulder was aware that he had to act subtle against the psychopath and his minions. He hoped that Skinner, Holly and Leyla were already on his tracks. 

And there was the question of Scully. Was she safe and looking for him, or captive close by?

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’

“I thought only women were your guinea pigs,” Mulder continued.

“Indeed. But... I can’t stand a man like you, sneaking into my business. A man who represents the actual degeneration of _ true manhood _ . You need to be eradicated!”

“I’m not sure I understand the second part of your animosity toward me. Look, I’m all naked. I can’t hide my  _ true virility _ to you.”

“I admit I’m envious of your impressive physique, Mister Mulder. You’ve taken good care of your body. But are you aware of your reputation as a pseudo man? Your flaws as a male are all located in your brain. You’re softhearted. You’re a whimperer. Spoiled by a lost sister. You’re a nothing without your female partner at the Bureau. It’s Agent Scully who has all the balls in the team. You have let her dominate you from the beginning. This woman is your weakness. Shame on you in the name of  _ Great Manhood _ .” 

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’

And, after a few seconds, the psychopath added fiercely in Mulder’s ears: “She must be neutralized too, this _ nasty little bitch _ !”

“Where’s Scully? What have you done to her? I swear that if you ever touch her I’ll rip off your balls, _fucking_ _bastard_! So you’d weep for your bollocks in a Trumpy Fucking Bear!” Mulder vociferated angrily.

Then, completely losing his nerves, he fiercely shouted: “SCULLAAY!!! SCULLAAY!!!”

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’

“Ah, ah!! That’s exactly what I intended to do before taking care of your degenerate mind, Mister Mulder.”

And, after a dramatic pause, the mad voice screamed, making the words reverberate against the walls hidden by the darkness then sneak under Mulder’s bare skin: 

  
“ _ GET RID OF YOUR USELESS BALLS! _ ”


	9. ACT FOUR - PART TWO

_ Scene 1 - Unknown Place  _

Scully was following Tom Colton through a dedalus of tunnels and ladders, sinking into unknown dark underground territories of Washington D.C. 

The two of them were tracked and tailed by the backup Leyla was leading, albeit far behind. 

Scully hadn’t wanted to wait for the reinforcements, the pain in her gut telling her she had to hurry. 

Mulder needed her. Now.

She had followed Agent Colton without a shadow of a doubt, an act of faith and rationalism based on what Tom had confessed to her in a few words. 

They were now reaching a discreet aperture in a wall, an opening to a tenebrous den revealing voices and shadowy figures.

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’ was the hymn floating through the gloom.

“Mulder might be there,” whispered Tom Colton to Scully. His voice and body were slightly shaking under the madness and wickedness exuded by the room ahead of them. 

Scully stepped across the narrow breach, leaving Colton flattened against the wall, not wanting to be seen. 

“Don’t we wait for Leyla?” he muttered, so softly that Scully guessed his words rather than heard them.

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’

Scully sshed him with a left-handed gesture, her right hand already raising her gun. She was concentrating on the two other voices she could perceive over the chanting ones. As much as she could say, these extra voices were coming from an alcove further in the rear room. She stood on tiptoe, but her sight was unhappily hidden by the shadowy figures forming a rampart between her and the place where Mulder might --should-- be. 

Surprisingly, nobody seemed to control or watch the entrance she and Tom had arrived from. Wasn’t that suspicious? 

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’

Scully was pondering her course of action when she began to distinguish Mulder’s voice. She distinctly heard the words ‘ _ fucking bastard _ ’, making her heart stop for a second.

He was there. He was alive. He was still himself. 

“SCULLAAY!!! SCULLAAY!!!”

Her heart jerked in her chest as Mulder’s incantation fully hit her senses. 

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’ 

Scully turned around to check on Colton. He had regained assurance and was quietly backing her up, gun in hand. She nodded to him and resumed her silent walk into the dim room, hearing the second voice pronounce words she couldn’t discriminate. 

Then, a loud and angry expletive.

“ _ GET RID OF YOUR USELESS BALLS! _ ”

This specific threat perfectly reached her ears. What was this battle of swear words? What was happening?

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’ 

As she was getting closer to the rampart of bodies showing her their backs, she realized they must be in a state of trance, only chanting their hypnotic hymn and not reacting to what might occur in front of them --nor behind.

“NOOO!!! FUCKING NUTS!!!!” Mulder screamed. 

Then, the sound of a rope ripping through the thick air wrapping the freakish decor, the thump of crushed flesh, followed by a desperate “AAARGHHH!!!!” and a concomitant stabbing pain in Scully’s low belly.

‘TOM! TOM! TOM!’ 

That was too much to bear. Too much to think rationally. 

Scully bumped into the chanting puppets and rushed across them towards the faint lightened alcove. 

In the blink of an eye, she took in the situation. 

Mulder fastened to a chair. A mad man about to flagellate Mulder’s naked body with an end-knotted rope.

Then, all happened in a matter of seconds --or even of milliseconds. 

Scully firing into the mad man’s shoulder. A bunch of red hatters diving onto her. Screams. Gun shots.

And, over the whole chaos, two visceral melded calls:

“MULDERRR!!!” and “SCULLAAAYY!!!” 

* * *

_ Scene 2 - Unknown Place _

Despite his odd attire, Skinner was emanating an aura of authority and steadiness amidst the chaos surrounding him. He was supervising and directing the disparate crew --FBI Agents, cops, paramedics-- who were cleaning the whole mess resulting from their charge against the macho cultists. 

Nobody seemed surprised to receive instructions from a man standing in briefs, wearing a T-shirt and sneakers. They had more urgent things to do than speculating on how the Assistant Director of the FBI had ended up without pants. 

Skinner was fairly satisfied about the outcome of the operation. It could have culminated in a fiasco and a lot more casualties. Hopefully, the three agents who were in the first line --Mulder, Scully and Colton-- were suffering low injuries, and those of the second and third line were unscathed. The only seriously wounded were a few members of the cultists, and there had been one fatality. 

Skinner would have obviously preferred to capture Brian T. Riddle alive so they could close the case decently, then unfold and investigate all the ramifications of Riddle’s criminal association. They would now have to only deal with his feeble pawns, hoping there would be enough matter to extract from them that would bring peace and justice to their victims. 

It remained to shed light on the precise circumstances that had led to Riddle’s death, but Skinner had no doubt that it had been an unavoidable casualty. Colton was maybe a bad shooter --he didn’t intend to kill-- but he had prevented Riddle from opening fire on Mulder. All had happened quickly after Scully’s shot, forcing Colton to react instinctively. Scully was overpowered by a few minions when Colton had sneaked out from the dark, then spotted Riddle picking up a gun from his waist, pointing it at Mulder and apparently willing to angrily pull the trigger. 

A fight had ensued for a few minutes --Colton being neutralized by the fully awakened chanting puppets, Scully struggling fiercely-- when Skinner, Leyla and Holly had arrived, promptly followed by the cops that had been called as backups. All but a few criminals had then surrendered rather quietly, while some stubborn opponents had attempted to prove their true maleness --stupidly assaulting the armed cops then being injured by gunshots. 

Skinner peeked at Colton. The unexpected agent was under the supervision of Leyla, taking care of him with the help of the paramedics. He was suffering bruises but was essentially shocked by the events. Standing close to them, Skinner could hear Leyla’s words of comfort and worry. She was both proud of him and angry that he had been such a fool to act as he had; telling him he didn’t need to prove his value or his manliness to her by taking such risks.

Leaving them some privacy, Skinner turned around and stepped away for a few meters. 

He then glanced at his other couple of agents who had withdrawn from the now crowded room and settled down in a corner of the alcove. They were inhabiting their own bubble of intimacy, Scully having shooed away the paramedics when she had been assured of Mulder’s relatively good state. She would take charge of him --of both of them actually, as she had also been contused in the melee. From his point of view, Skinner couldn’t distinguish one body from the other, Mulder and Scully tightly embracing and their limbs so intermingled. A bit earlier, when he had wanted to formally check on them after the retreat of the paramedics, these two were already buried in each other's body, weeping and whispering in unison. 

Skinner sighed and wondered in what state he would retrieve the coat and the sweatpants he had taken off and put on Mulder, as soon as he had untied him from the chair. 

“Walter?” a voice said behind Skinner.

“Yeah,” Skinner replied, turning around to watch Holly coming closer.

“Here, your bag with your clothes.”

“Thanks, Holly.”

Skinner wasn’t unfortunate, after all. 

Someone was taking care of him as well. 

* * *

_ Scene 3 - Unremarkable House _

Mulder and Scully were lying down on the sofa of the unremarkable house, both wrapped under a wide warm blanket, feet on the coffee table. 

They were in a state of half-snooze due to the late hour, but they still weren’t ready to surrender to their tiredness. They hadn’t even established how they would spend the night --on the couch or in the bed, together or separately. What was certain was that Scully wouldn't leave Mulder alone and that Mulder wouldn’t let her go. Certainly, they would stay in their present status quo, falling asleep side by side on the couch, Scully’s head resting on Mulder’s shoulder, Mulder holding her hand --and who knew in what position they would wake up in the morning. 

When they had come back home --noteworthily still Mulder’s home and not yet their shared one, but who cares at this late hour?-- they had cleaned themselves, changed, and Scully had provided the medical attention for both of them. 

Relieved that he had avoided vital damage on his most sensitive parts --he was even able to do the stairs up and down without help-- Mulder had concocted some refreshments while Scully had called Skinner for an up-to-date information about the case. 

This is how, after lightly drinking and eating, they were resting on the couch, under a wide warm blanket, feet on the coffee table. 

“Really,” Mulder said after a long quiet moment on the couch, “I would have never imagined Leyla marrying Colton.”

“They are not married, they just live together.”

“And they have two little kids together.”

“Yeah... Hopefully, the kids were with their grandparents for the day.”

“It’s a small world, though.”

“Indeed.”

“So, Leyla didn’t have any suspicion about Tom?”

“Apparently none. When Tom had been haphazardly approached by two of the Riddle’s men, he had made connections with Leyla’s investigation. He nevertheless kept it secret from her, in order to infiltrate the group as much as he could. He’s a relatively newbie in the Headquarters, and he and Leyla are very discreet about their personal lives. No one knew about their relationship but a few. He really helped us on this one and saved the day.”

“He’s not the same Tom Colton we knew.”

“People can change and redeem themselves.”

For a little while, they let their mind wander about the perpetual question of good and bad. 

“I’m sure Colton became a better guy because of Leyla,” Mulder said.

“Women make men get better?” 

“It happens, Scully, it happens. It’s the power of true love, Scully. ”

Then, they let their thoughts get lost in the eternal mysteries of love. 

“Scully, do you think we’d be able to find out how Riddle was brainwashing women?” Mulder said at last. 

“Don’t know, Mulder. There was so little evidence in the place we ended up. But Riddle was shot in the chest, his brain is intact even if dead. I’d be able to perform some scientific procedures on it.”

“Don’t waste your time slicing and dicing the rest of his body. It isn't worth it. This man was weak in his right arm, not like Le Chiffre.”

“I’m so glad that we live in the real world and not in a Bond movie,” Scully said. 

Then, with a slight raspy voice and squeezing Mulder’s hand, she added: 

“Fox... I cannot imagine what damage you would have suffered down there if it were the case.”

“Me neither, obviously.”

It was too terrible to think of what might have happened, so Mulder resumed their views about the task ahead to close the case. 

“Riddle’s dead, but we still have quite a bunch of pawns to question. Though, I think they won’t be much of help. They seemed to be seriously brainwashed and dull, these MMGA guys.” 

“Sure… Do you think we’ll find some answers? For us?”

“Tonight, I won’t bet on that… We’ll see.” 

“These MMGA guys, were they really connected to the POTUS?”

“We’ll have to find out… There are strange similarities, though…”

They were about to speculate about the political aspects of the case when Mulder thought better.

“You know, Scully... I think I’ll buy us two caps with nicely embroidered red MOLGA letters on it.”

“MOLGA? Why? What does that mean?”

“Ah… Well…”

Mulder exhaled a long heavy breath, pondering what could be said. 

He had launched his words as a mere pun, though, thinking of it, he had actually opened his heart and launched its deep expectations in the air. He could now seize the occasion and really commit them to the discussion they should have about their relationship. 

However, as often, it seemed the wrong place, the wrong timing. 

They were both tired, both shaken, both confused after this long and emotional day. They would have to settle down, to retrieve some normality, and to find the right moment amidst their weird lives to do so --the occasion you could never foresee but that just felt right when it was about to happen. 

So, before letting it go for the night and before giving in to sleep, he took Scully’s head in his hands and locked her eyes. He instantly sensed that he could anchor his heart to their blue shades for the whole night to come, the way he had anchored his thoughts to her body on the porch. 

Yet, first, he had to sow seeds in these beautiful eyes, so they could take root in her soul.

“Dana... I’ll keep you guessing on that one,” he whispered. “You have to find your way leading to the MOLGA path, then choose to take a leap of faith and to step forward.”

And, after a beat, “When you’re ready, you’ll tell me.”

What Mulder held back was his determination to stand at the entrance of the MOLGA path, waiting for Scully’s choice, as long as needed. 

What he didn’t say was that he believed in her. 

That he believed in them. 

That he believed in the slogan hidden in the acronym MOLGA, hoping it would be theirs for the rest of their life:

‘Make Our Love Great Again.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes, now you have reached the end.
> 
> 1) I fantasize that what Scully whispers in Mulder's ear in NLF during the Church scene is: "I'm ready to take the MOLGA path with you.".
> 
> 2) Here the prompt I had received from Laia:
> 
> "Women in their early 40s are being targeted by a serial killer/kidnapper. FBI suspects it's an inside job (Maybe an agent or professor in Quantico). Paranormal or plain human-evil. Mulder as a profiler.  
> Scully "undercover" as a younger woman, using herself as bait to get close"
> 
> and
> 
> "Extra points for including known female agents (Leyla, Holly...). Banter, flirty, humor, cute grown-up Mulder. Preferably S11 pre-Plus One (I love UST but make it RST or another era if it fits better)"
> 
> I wish I have fulfilled the prompt in a satisfactory manner.
> 
> I know I didn't explore and develop the "profiler" aspects for Mulder. It was a choice for my story.
> 
> 3) I also know that I didn't emphasize on the Case File and investigation aspects. I really wanted to write an emotional MSR centered fic.


End file.
